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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25394167">Switched: Truth's Game</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyNameIsNK/pseuds/MyNameIsNK'>MyNameIsNK</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood &amp; Manga</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action/Adventure, Freeform, Mystery, OC goes to Amestris</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:48:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,479</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25394167</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyNameIsNK/pseuds/MyNameIsNK</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Truth was bored. It knew of every choice: beginning, middle, and end. It knew what was going to happen and when...but. There were those who it could not predict. Ah, yes...Perhaps it could play a game. ."</p><p>Ivy was a normal girl who only wanted to pass her finals, not wind up in some mysterious power play between dimensions! Between managing the timeline, and making sure she doesn't wreck it, she has to fight for her survival in the world that keeps trying to erase her. Meanwhile, she's trapped here with a stranger she just met, while trying to navigate a story she wasn't meant to be part of. But how did she get there, and most importantly, why? What is this 'game' Truth is talking about? Will she be able to survive, and keep this universe on track? </p><p>After all, Truth said the Void would need its payment soon.</p><p>Cross posted from ffn.net. A rewrite from an old idea.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. PRE-GAME</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Truth was nervous.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mistakes were catching up to It. Free will was always a factor They never seemed to account for. And how annoying that free will is. ‘Eternity,’ They told themselves, ‘it would take an eternity for it to matter.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eternity. What a dreadfully misleading word. When One was All and Everything is Nothing, eternity meant little.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mistakes. Numbers. Factors. </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>The Void would need its payment</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The thought of it struck Truth with an automatic, empty fear. Fear that seemed to be…what was the word…</span>
  </em>
  <span>pointless</span>
  <em>
    <span>. They had accepted it millennia ago. Yet, there was something. A different feeling that was gnawing at it. A feeling it had forgotten about.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Truth was </span>
  </em>
  <span>bored</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There were only so many things One could do to fill the Void—literally—and whatever it could conjure up were fleeting. Without substance. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Time consuming</span>
  <em>
    <span>. Truth wanted—</span>
  </em>
  <span>needed</span>
  <em>
    <span>—results. Something that would matter, at the very least.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They felt something akin to a smile as its form flickered. Two peachy pink appendages trembling as a reminder of the last act worth acknowledgement. Ah, yes. Those two. Yes. </span>
  </em>
  <span>That</span>
  <em>
    <span> was something to look forward to down the road. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And then it occurred to them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Truth grinned.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Truth be told, Edward didn’t understand why it was such a big deal. He had found a lead-- albeit a very shaky one-- but beggars cannot be choosers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, Edward, did you learn </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> from the last time you had a run in with Scar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed didn’t dignify that with a response. Absently, his flesh hand fisted the fabric around his auto-mail arm. Of course he remembered. His red coat had been in tatters, and it took entirely too long for him to find the same kind of thread to transmute it back to its former glory. He caught sight of Mustang’s eyes, dark and narrowed, trained on him. His brows were cinched together in what could be considered concern, but the deep scowl on his face betrayed that notion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tch. Colonel Roy Mustang’s face pissed him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “So, it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Edward</span>
  </em>
  <span> now, is it, Colonel?” he sneered, crossing his arms and legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mustang growled, slamming his hands on his desk and standing up quickly. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Dammit</span>
  </em>
  <span> Fullmetal! This isn’t a game!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quickly, the woman who stood silently behind him, put a hand on his shoulder. The two met eyes, and in some unknowable language, Roy Mustang sat back down in his office chair, frustrated, but resigned. How Hawkeye tolerated this bastard, Ed could never know. After a tense moment, Hawkeye began to tidy the desk. Piles of papers and manila folders scattered the mahogany surface and she swiftly put them in order.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the Colonel means, Ed,” she began in a measured, calm voice, “is do you think it’s wise to knowingly travel to an area where Scar was spotted?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed huffed. “Who cares if he’s there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you’re confident if you were to encounter him, you would win?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed snorted and glanced her way. He flinched. Her deep brown eyes pierced right through him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can say with one hundred percent certainty,” She gathered a pile of folders in her arms, and hugged them to her chest, “that you can single handedly win against a man who successfully outwitted dozens of trained, military soldiers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed swallowed, biting the inside of his cheek. He tore his eyes away from her gaze. “It’s not like I’m trying to seek him out…” he mumbled. She made a quiet humming noise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All the Colonel wants is for you to consider the danger.” She made her way around the desk, staring ahead. In a few steps, she passed the leather sofa Ed tried to disappear into and opened the door out. Without looking back at either of them, she said, “After all, how can you return your brother’s body if you’re dead?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of the door closing was deafening in the silence that followed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For an hour after Hawkeye left, Edward and the Colonel discussed the trip thoroughly and amicably. No matter what, Ed was going to Ashwell: leads don’t come by often. Mustang understood that, even if he hated the poor timing of it. There was talk of bringing Armstrong again, as a bodyguard, but that might bring more unwanted attention than desired. Instead, they agreed for Ed to keep a low profile, and to keep his identity a secret as much as possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed let out a loud sigh as soon as the door closed behind him. That office was suffocating enough, but Havoc’s cigarette smoke was making it hard to breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brother!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed looked up and saw Alphonse jogging toward him, the sound of his footfalls clanging loudly against the linoleum floors. At the sight of the seven-foot kindness in a can, he finally released the tension he didn’t realize was there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “How’d it go?” Alphonse asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, as good as it usually does. He’s still a bastard,” Ed remarked. He began walking, and without hesitation, Al followed him. The quicker he can get out of HQ, the quicker they can get going.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> On the way out, a few clusters of officers would pass by, quickly saluting or giving out curt ‘sirs’ to acknowledge Edward’s presence. When he first joined the military, it would fill his twelve-year-old mind with pride, seeing how adult men and women would bow their heads to him out of respect. It was invigorating to feel so tall and mighty, but now he knew better. These bows and salutes were mere commands, empty gestures, to show a fake ‘respect’ that never was there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides, how could he enjoy being respected by the very people who would stand by and allow a monster to kill a little girl? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did the Colonel feel about Ashwell?” Al asked. “That meeting lasted longer than it usually does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right. He never said the result. “We can go as long as we keep a low profile,” he said, “And I have to call and report once a day. If I do not, he’ll send a team after me.” Ed scowled at the thought. That would ruin everything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Al hummed in acknowledgement. “He sure is cautious.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He sure is annoying,” he snapped, “What the point in keeping a low profile if the minute I’m late to a phone call, he’ll send a swarm of uniforms our way?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brother...” Al warned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” That tone of his. He could feel a lecture coming on. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘I’m sure the Colonel is just worried’</span>
  </em>
  <span> he would say. Or, ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>He has a point, y’know.’ </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He’ll swallow a thousand lectures and reprimands if it meant getting his brother back to normal. No matter who he’d have to listen to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walked in silence until they saw the sunshine of Central City. The sky was blue, and the sun was bright. Summer was upon them and the warmth of it both comforted Edward and strained his eyes. As they descended the stairs back into the city, he stopped when he could no longer hear clanky metal behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see Alphonse a few steps higher. His hands were clenched into fists in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel good about this lead, Ed,” he said resolutely, “I think this will be the breakthrough we’ve been waiting for, I just know it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> A smile tugged at his lips. His little brother’s faith was so unwavering and earnest, it was blinding. Then again, the sunshine that bounced off his metal body was blinding as well. Ed had to look away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Yeah. I think so too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ignored that it felt like he was lying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>return their bodies back to normal. He had to. Normally, leads fill him with hope. So why can’t he shake this feeling of dread?</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>THERE WILL BE PEACE WHEN YOU ARE DONE</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes snapped open immediately. She snatched the phone off the nightstand and wildly tried to unlock the touchscreen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>LAY YOUR WEARY HEAD DOWN TO REST</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>DON’T YOU— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The song was stopped before it could reach its first solo and she audibly sighed in relief. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I gotta change that ringtone…</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ivy thought, reaching her arms to the ceiling. Upon hearing a satisfying pop, she dropped her hands to her lap and began alternating between rolling her neck and shoulders to loosen up the muscles that grew stiff in the few hours she managed to sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lump of stolen blankets next to her rolled over, further tangling themselves into the sheets. Despite the grogginess caused by the ball beside her, Ivy smiled. Gently, so as to not awaken the seven-year-old spitfire, she tugged the polka-dotted sheet down to reveal her sister’s face. Long, dark lashes that Ivy wished she had inherited fluttered against her cherub cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh,” Ivy instantly shushed, smoothing dark brown hair away from the girl’s face, “Go back to sleep.” Before she could finish her sentence, the girl was snoring again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ivy yawned, flinging what little covers she still had off her body and stood up. The wooden floor was cold to her bare feet as she rifled blindly through her dresser. Upon finding the ugly polo shirts and equally hideous gray plaid skirt, she threw them back on her bed for later. She then went to the drawer above hers to retrieve her sister’s uniform that almost was a tiny replica, save for the plaid color scheme, and threw that outfit onto the small twin-bed adjacent to her own. Why Naomi still preferred to share a bed with her older sister, she’d never guess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mindful of keeping quiet, Ivy made her way down the hall to the living room, her mind focused on </span>
  <em>
    <span>coffee, coffee, coffee. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The kitchenette hadn’t been touched since the last time she stayed at her mom’s, as evident by the piling dishes in the sink and takeout containers sitting in the recycling bin. Reminding herself to clean up the place after school, she turned on the kettle and got the Vietnamese instant coffee packets her aunt had gifted her ready. While the water boiled, she rummaged around for some frosted flakes or cheerios, when a groan caught her attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lifting her head, she saw a familiar form draped over the couch. Sighing, Ivy instantly reached for a glass and turned on the tap. “Mom,” she called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> A groan in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ivy rolled her eyes and made her way over. Placing the glass on the coffee table beside the woman, she noticed she still had the same clothes that she had worn last night. Based on her agape mouth and the fact she didn’t bother to take off her makeup, Ivy guessed she came crashing in later than usual. “Mom,” she repeated, a bit louder this time. When she continued to sleep, Ivy took her shoulder and shook it vigorously. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mom</span>
  </em>
  <span>, wake up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The petite woman’s eyebrows scrunched together, and she breathed in deeply. “Ivy?” Her voice was hoarse and husky with sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Yep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took in another deep breath and slowly sat up. Her long, thick black hair fell over her face and she reached up to tuck it behind her ear. How her hair still stayed immaculate—no tangles in sight—after a night out and abrupt crash later, Ivy had no idea. Reflexively, she reached up to touch her own knotted, tangled mess and once again lamented over the features she didn’t inherit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “What time is it?” her mother asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The kettle beeped angrily, signaling it was done, and Ivy gave a pointed look. Ignoring the question, Ivy walked back to the kitchenette. “Naomi has to be in school by eight,” she said curtly, “Make sure she gets there on time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Why can’t you take her with you?” she asked, then noticed the water glass. She picked it up eagerly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “It’s the last day of finals. I need to be there early.” Cheerios noisily fell into the bowls. After pouring milk in, she took a big bite of her own. Food felt good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Which one is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ivy poured the water into her favorite purple mug and tore the coffee packet with her teeth. The water swirled into a caramel brown. “I have AP Lit and Calculus and then I’m done for the year.” Just two more subjects to pass with high enough scores to keep her GPA up, then it was camping, beaches, and sleeping in till noon. God, she could feel the Tahoe sun on her tan skin already. San Francisco was great and all, but she missed the sun, and damn did she miss her father’s barbecue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Looking around at the dingy, all-too-small apartment, with its gray walls and stained crème carpet, she felt entirely too…caged. Monotonous. The darkness of the living room made her frown and she quickly made her way to the windows, forcing the curtains open. The sky was still gray with Bay Area fog, but it brought a bit of light. Ivy’s mom’s eyes instantly squinted, and her nose scrunched up from the strain. She shielded her eyes with her hand, bringing the water glass to her lips again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “And you’re going to ace those right?” she said in an all-too-familiar tone, “You already know what </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nanay</span>
  </em>
  <span> is going to say if you don’t get that Spanish grade up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And just like that, Ivy’s spirits dampened. Summer vacation didn’t mean anything unless her grades were good, because if they weren’t, it was two months of grounding to look forward to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “We sacrificed so much already to put you in that school so the least you can do is get straight A’s,” her mom continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “I know,” Ivy said quietly, “I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> An uncomfortable silence settled over them as they both sipped at their drinks. She felt her mom’s matching dark eyes stare at her sadly. Ivy decided to ignore it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “I only say that because I love you,” she said. Ah, yes. That sweet, conditional love.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span> The response was automatic. “I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “I love you,” she said, almost warningly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Love you too.” Ivy took one last sip, suddenly feeling not very hungry. She stepped around stray toys on the ground and picked up her cereal from the small dining table, and swiftly handed it to her mother. With a sheepish smile, she took it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Naomi’s clothes are on her bed. She needs to be there by eight,” Ivy said sternly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Her response was automatic. “I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “She can’t be late,” Ivy reminded. It was the last week of school; there was no reason for her to be late. The least her mom could do was prioritize her sister’s education as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> “I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> And they continued their morning routine in mutual silence.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span> “I’m gonna KMS.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “STOP THAT; you’re gonna be fine!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Ivy and Kylie quickly push themselves to stand in line before the morning coffee rush hits. Steaming wands shriek and baristas’ voices call out order names in succession. Myriads of ‘good mornings’ and ‘have a nice day’ fill the quiet between grumbles of disgruntled businessmen and much too tired parents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “No, Ives, you don’t understand, I’m literally going to fail,” Kylie continued. She pushed back a curly blonde lock of hair behind her ear. “If I fail, I’ll go to summer school, and then Mom will kill me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Ivy gave her a knowing look. “She won’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill </span>
  </em>
  <span>you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Before her friend could go on about potential punishments, the face of a smiling barista waved them over. Eagerly, they bounded over to the registers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Good morning! Could I please get one--” Before she could speak, a young boy behind the bar spoke up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “One caramel macchiato and a soy, hot chocolate?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kylie flashed a brilliant smile. “You know it, James.” Upon seeing her, he quickly ducked his head down, his ears turning pink. Ivy could gag at how sickly sweet the interaction was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> After paying, the two friends found their corner table to set down their bulging backpacks. She loved this coffeeshop. Not Starbucks—the chain she could care less about—but the location. Granted, it was always a pain to get to—Kylie always complained—right on top of a steep hill, nowhere near any bus stops, the list goes on. But she loved coming here. If you stood right against the front windows, you could see all of San Francisco. There was something about being able to see this huge metropolis. The skyscrapers and large buildings seemed dwarfed against the bay. It reminded her how small she was. She could fail every subject in school, and none of that mattered, in comparison to the world. It was comforting to think how insignificant her current issues were, in a weird way. Made her feel better about finals week, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> As they set out their study guides and notebooks, Ivy could see James eyeing her friend from across the way. This crush was ridiculous. Ever since Ivy started to bring her out to Starbucks to study, James couldn’t keep his eyes from her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Truthfully, it wasn’t hard to see why. With Kylie’s blonde, curly hair, and her big, baby blue eyes, she was a beauty. Her long legs and model complexion sure didn’t hurt either. Normally, she’d be protective over her childhood best friend, but Ivy and James were in the same AP classes. He was dorky, but sweet. And with his brown hair and matching dark eyes, he wasn’t that bad on the eyes either. Hell, maybe she could pass the tutoring torch over to him, too. Ivy had other subjects she wanted to study too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Within a minute or so, their drinks were ready, and she watched as Kylie and James did their usual flirting at the handoff plane. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but on account of their giggling she could guess. Kylie made her way back over, drinks in hand, and Ivy shot her friend a knowing look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Her perfectly plucked eyebrows scrunched together. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Ivy gave another look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Instantly, her friend’s cheeks turned a bright red.  “What?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what,” Ivy teased, leaning forward on the small round table. “You want me to set you two up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kylie nearly choked on her hot cocoa, shaking her head. “Ohmygod, can we </span>
  <em>
    <span>please </span>
  </em>
  <span>just go over math?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Ivy smirked. “If you had that kind of dedication to studying, we wouldn’t be here now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Oh, shut it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> BAM!</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Two large, glove-covered hands had slammed themselves against the window next to them. Ivy could see every pore, nick, and scrape from his mal-trimmed beard. His tongue flicked out to lick his cracked lips, and his teeth were yellowed with time. He was so close his breath fogged up the glass with each shallow breath he took.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Kylie cursed loudly, scooting her chair as far from the window as possible. Ivy was shocked in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Slowly, his mouth formed a word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “You two okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> At the sound of James’s voice, both girls swiveled around to face him. It looked like he was about to jump the handoff plane, his hands planted firmly on the wood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Kylie was the first to speak. “T-There was this guy who just banged on the window!” She pointed a trembling finger toward the large glass, but he was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> James sighed, his shoulders loosening. “I know who you’re talking about. His name’s Seamus. He’s this guy who comes around every now and then.” He gave an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry he scared you, but I promise other than smudging the window, he’s harmless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Kylie let out an uncomfortable laugh. “Harmless? I nearly shit myself!” James laughed heartily, and at the sight of it, the girl loosened her own shoulders. “Well, if I wasn’t awake before, I sure am now, huh, Ives?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Ivy brought herself out of her reverie, stitching a smile onto her face. “Yeah, definitely.” Seeing how determined Kylie was to move on, she made a conscious effort to seem unbothered, no matter how shaky her knees were. “Okay, let’s start on problem 23…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Soon enough, everything went back to normal. Kylie was goofing off and joking like always and Ivy envied how calm her friend was. Truthfully, she was still shaken up. Harmless, her ass. He totally made eye contact. That was targeted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> As Ivy went over equations, she couldn’t help but to think about that man. How he suddenly disappeared or that the world seemed a bit fuzzy where he once was.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>“Soon.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>What did that mean?</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She sighed. Crazy people. No use in trying to make sense of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> They managed to get some solid cramming done before it was time to get to school. Kylie was due for Algebra 2 and she hoped Ivy’s notes helped her some. This was probably the last time they’d be able to see each other for their early morning coffee run; their finals schedules didn’t line up at all this semester. They gathered up all their books and trash, cleaning the table before heading out. Kylie shouted a goodbye at James, and he sent her a grin back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Ivy followed behind, also waving a goodbye to the boy she’d see later today for the AP Lit final. She didn’t manage two steps outside the café before she rammed into Kylie’s backpack. The hardcover textbooks had made it feel like she ran into a wall. She was about to push her forward with a huff when she froze in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “L-let go of me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The sound of Kylie’s high-pitched panic was loud in Ivy’s ears. It was him—the guy from earlier—what was his name? A large, dirt-encrusted hand had seized the blonde’s forearm, but not without resistance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Listen to me,” he wheezed. His voice was smokey and wobbled with age. “Please listen!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Kylie struggled against the man’s grip and was unsuccessful to pry her arm back. The man—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Seamus</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Ivy realized—was unrelenting, his eyes bloodshot and crazed. She needed to say something. She had to say something! So why wasn’t her mouth moving?!</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Before she could react, another figure appeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Hey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> His cool voice speared through the tension. Instantly, attention zeroed in on the new, nameless individual. Seamus was only startled for a moment, before snapping his head back toward the girls. They flinched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Wordlessly, the new guy stepped forward, quickly snapping up Seamus’ forearm, the one that held Kylie captive. He gripped his arm so tight Ivy could see the whites of his knuckles, before he pushed the older man back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Seamus only faltered a few steps back. He was perplexed, his brows knitted together in some unreadable emotion. His jaw slack in some sort of awe, he attempted to move forward again. Before he advanced further, the still nameless hero stepped between the girls and the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he warned again, this time, his voice lowering a few notes, “I think you ought’a kick some rocks, man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were a few beats of silence as the homeless man regarded him. Ivy only saw the back of him, his shoulders wide and his stance tall. He had short, wavy black hair and she wondered who the hell he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Without warning, Seamus burst into laughter. Maniacal, unhinged laughter. “Soon!” he wailed. “Soon!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> And as suddenly as he had shown up, he began to leave, mumbling and laughing to himself. Ivy watched as he retreated down an alley, chills going down her spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Her adrenaline was pumping high still and if it weren’t for Kylie nudging her in the side, she was sure she would have decked whoever touched her. She slowly looked up at the owner of the hand and was taken aback at the young face that stared back at her, his green eyes staring intently into her brown ones. He couldn’t have been any older than she was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “C’mon, let's get inside,” he implored, gently motioning the two girls inside the café. His voice was a lot gentler than it had been before, and for that, Ivy was grateful. She felt like she was walking on jelly, but the presence of her savior had calmed her racing heart some. The panic began to slow, and she was just thankful her and Kylie were safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> As soon they were back inside the small café, they were bombarded by James, his eyes clouded with worry. He still had his green apron on and the smell of mocha followed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Are you two okay?” he asked, his eyes darting between the two girls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Yeah, we’re okay,” Kylie answered. Ivy sighed loudly. God, did she feel better now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “We already called security,” James told them, “Seamus will no longer be allowed near here.” He had hesitantly reached for Kylie’s hand when the nameless boy spoke up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Do you have someone who could pick you two up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> James seemed to notice him for the first time and instinctively he stood up straighter. The other boy paid him no mind, only staring into Kylie’s baby blues. Kylie smiled at him and flashed her phone. “Mom’s already on the way,” she said, her words more so directed at Ivy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Thank you,” Ivy said then, relief blooming in her chest. Her words could apply to any of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The mystery boy cocked an undeniably attractive smile at her. “No worries,” he said coolly, “Do you guys want me to stay here?” The question was aimed at them both, but it didn’t leave Ivy’s notice that his gaze was trained on her friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “It’s fine,” came James’ voice, his voice a few notes lower than it usually was. “I can stay with them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ivy suppressed an annoyed eye roll. The boys eyed each other. James was glaring daggers while the Newcomer raised a brow cockily. Subconsciously or not, their shoulders were rigid, and their chests may as well have been puffed out. Stupid boys and their dumb testosterone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> With Kylie’s melt-your-heart baby blues and model-like looks, it was no wonder why the boys were vying for her attention. Ivy couldn’t help but feel like chopped liver standing next to her. At the very least, it didn’t seem like her friend noticed the futile pissing contest taking place in front of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Not a moment sooner, a familiar Toyota Prius came ambling up the hill, and Ivy seized the opportunity. “There’s our ride,” she announced, loudly enough to cut the boys’ tension. She hooked her arm around Kylie’s, and quickly began moving out. “Thanks guys! See you at the AP Lit final, James?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> James snapped his attention toward the brunette and gave a sheepish smile. “Y-yeah. See you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “See you around,” the mystery boy said, giving a wave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> As soon as the door behind them closed, Ivy let out a giant sigh. “You okay?” she asked, peering at her friend. They walked down the hill, arms linked, to meet the Prius at the parking lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Yeah, I’m fine,” Kylie said easily, then frowned. “That Seamus guy was such a dick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Ivy only laughed, relieved she wasn’t shaken up by the whole thing. She envied how easily the blonde moved on from the altercation and squeezed her friend’s arm closer. She wouldn’t know what to do if something were to happen to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The two girls climbed into the tiny car, instantly bombarded by concerned questions from Kylie’s mother. Kylie answered them all, constantly reassuring her mother that they were fine. Ivy stayed quiet, looking out the window to the small coffeeshop. As she stared at the place where the man had been, the hairs on her arm stood on end. She didn’t know if the car window was smudged or something, but the building looked distorted. The empty space Seamus used to stand and the air around it seemed disturbed somehow, like she could reach out and physically touch it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “You okay, Ives?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Huh?” She snapped out of her reverie, regarding two sets of concerned blue eyes. She instantly plastered a smile on her face to reassure the two women. “Yeah, I’m good. Just wondering if I should get Naomi a cake pop or something after school.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> At that, Kylie rolled her eyes. “That girl has got you wrapped around her finger; you know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She laughed. “Oh, c’mon! I’m not that bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “I hope you don’t spoil your own kids as much as you spoil your sister.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the car drove further away and the building became small in the rearview mirror, she couldn’t help but steal glances at the place where the homeless man stood. But whatever she saw before, was no longer there.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>The air was strangely cold, and a breeze sent a chill down her spine. Ivy pulled the school cardigan around her shoulders tighter. School had ended an hour ago due to the finals’ schedule and the campus was deserted within minutes of the last bell. Only a madman would stay willingly, but Ivy found herself planted in place. On a typical day, she’d find herself up to her neck in extracurriculars and errands to run, yet today was different.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today was the last day of school.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, she knew, logically, she had oodles of work to do. Not only were there the internship opportunities, but there were summer reading assignments, and college visits. She didn’t even consider the scholarship searches. No matter what, she was on the fast-track. AP courses, a 4.3 GPA, loads of community service under her belt. On paper she looked amazing. Now to just---</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Ivy stopped herself before she could think even more ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “That’s for tomorrow’s Ivy to worry about,” she admonished herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Today’s the day. No Mom, no school, no babysitting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out her pocket-watch. To this day, it still made her smile when she saw it. She had known Kylie since they were practically in diapers, and that meant they stayed friends throughout every obsession and phase. Ivy withstood the Disney obsession, pink everything turns to black everything, and heavy metal. Kylie stuck through the Greek mythology phase, musicals and plays, and anime obsession.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She had been obsessed with Full Metal Alchemist. Watched every anime, read through the manga, saw all the movies. She was smitten with the story and its characters. Whilst Kylie couldn’t watch all of it with her, she did get her one of the best gifts. A replica state-alchemist pocket watch. Though it’s been years since she’s seen FMA, let alone any anime, seeing the little thing always managed to put her in a good mood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> 12:37. Wow, she has the whole day, huh?</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She found a lone stone table and absently opened and closed the watch in her hand, debating what activities were in store for her. She could go to the local library and read, go on a quick walk, maybe even head over to Kylie’s and they could go to the mall or something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> As she contemplated who to text, she felt it. A single raindrop on her forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> It began sprinkling, slowly, but quickly wetting the earth around her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cursing, she ran for cover under the Virgin Mary statue in the middle of the courtyard. She quickly zipped her bag and sighed. Well, there goes her beautiful sunny day. She failed to bring a jacket, hoping that summer would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>summer </span>
  </em>
  <span>and not rain on her. Was there even a report about summer storms? She scrolled through the news app, searching.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>“…An earthquake with a 2.6 magnitude occurred at 2am in Daly City and another earthquake with a magnitude of 3.2 happened in Richmond at 6am this morning, only four hours after. Experts are baffled at the proximity in not only time, but also how close the two earthquake epicenters were located. Is this a bad omen of things to come, as many seem to speculate? Or is this just a scientific anomaly? We’ll be talking with a seismologist later this evening to see what this means for the Bay Area…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
  <span>Wow. Daly City was close. Surely, she should have felt something. She was probably fast asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Ivy sighed, frowning at the wet cement at her feet. Then again, would she have cared? California has earthquakes practically all the time. The doomsayers are having field days with the tsunamis and fires and floods happening around the globe, claiming divine retribution, when it’s all a matter of climate change. Anyone with a brain should be able to figure that out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Ah, screw it,” she mumbled to herself, holding her bag above her head, and began to book it down the street. Standing under a statue getting soaked wasn’t ideal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She could dully hear her mother’s overly-cautious words in her head, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘It’s a bad area! Don’t go anywhere without a buddy!’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>On any other occasion, she would agree. The city wasn’t exactly lone-girl friendly if the situation this morning was any indication. But it was noon on a weekday, and it was practically pouring, and she had no umbrella. She cringed at the water splashing on her bare legs as she continued to run. She felt the rainwater soaking her socks through her shoes already. She cursed the sky, though the clouds paid no heed, crying down on her from the heavens above.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She took her phone out of her backpack pocket, watching as the background photo of Naomi grinning collected raindrops. She considered calling her dad, have her come pick her up, but she knew that the Bay Area traffic would only have her standing outside in the rain for hours waiting for him. She contemplated a few more options before sighing. She wiped the phone screen on her still wet polo shirt, for whatever that was worth, before sending a text to her father.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span> Can you come get me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span> She grimaced, remembering the events from that morning. She didn’t want to go back. What if the guy was still there? It’s been hours since the incident, and James assured her that security wouldn’t let him back in, but still….</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Oh, screw it,” she mumbled under her breath, turning and beginning the long trek back to the café.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could have gone anywhere. She could have gone straight home or chose any of the cafes on the way there. She could have just stayed where she was. It wouldn’t be until much later that she regretted this decision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> It was pouring by the time Ivy made it to the Starbucks. As her clothes stuck uncomfortably to her skin, she finally agreed with Kylie’s complaints about how inconvenient this place was located. She took refuge under the green veranda, wringing out the water from her shirt. She didn’t like how much water spilled from the fabric.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She eyed the warmth from inside, steam billowing and smiles from baristas and patrons. She longed for entry, but she also didn’t want to inconvenience the employees she grew accustomed to by leaving puddles wherever she walked. She sighed again, deciding to stay outside until she was at least semi-dry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> As she stood outside, the sound of rain lulled her mind to wander. She thought about the finals she was done with, the countless hours of studying paying off. She wondered about what this summer had in store. She also thought about this morning, even though that was exactly what she was trying to avoid thinking about. Her gut clenched into knots and she fruitlessly put a hand over it to quell the anxiety that threatened to overtake her.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>What if he was still here, lurking about? What if all of it was premeditated? Oh god, what if he tried talking to her again? What if he tried abducting her? She wasn’t in a good neighborhood anyway. Oh god, what if—?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span> A hand touched her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Her body reacted without her telling it to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She opened her eyes upon hearing a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>WHACK</span>
  </em>
  <span> and saw the boy from earlier today, doubled over and cursing, clutching his face. Everything pieced together at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Ohmygod!” She exclaimed, trying to see what she could do. “Ohmygod, I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry—Ohmy—” She paled upon seeing blood. “C’mon; let’s get inside!” </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>That one.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The Gate slammed open, the children’s hands wriggling and screeching for joy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes,</span>
  <em>
    <span> Truth announced, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Soon</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Dozens of napkins were piled on the table they claimed, and the boy held a fistful to his nose. She could see blood soaking the edges. Her stomach dropped. “I am so sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He looked at her from the corner of his eye. “You said that already.” His voice was nasally from keeping his nose pinched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “I know; I just feel terrible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Ivy watched as the handsome stranger tilted his head back, reaching for new napkins, whilst tossing the old, blood-soaked ones in the trash behind him. Blood caked around the corners and with another stab of guilt, she noticed his nose hadn’t stopped bleeding yet. The boy—she was certain he was around her age, now—pinched his nose with clean napkins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve got one hell of a right hook.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She couldn’t believe he could still be cracking jokes. “Thanks…?” She didn’t really know how to respond to that. She bit her lip. “I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Christ, stop apologizing already,” he admonished, shooting a glare at her, “It was an accident, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She nodded sheepishly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Then it’s nothing to worry about.” He removed the wad of napkins from his face and then scrunched his nose up for good measure. He winced immediately from the pain. He chuckled. “You didn’t break my nose, thank God; that would have been annoying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Her shoulders slumped. “You’re sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He gave a half-hearted smile. “I’m sure.” He jutted his chin out, gesturing. “How’s your hand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She flinched, biting back a wince as she clenched her hand uncomfortably. Now that the adrenaline wore off, it was aching. It felt like she had punched a wall. Before speaking, she caught sight of his earnest green eyes, and she looked away quickly. “It’s fine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He raised a brow. “Really?” He reached over to call her bluff and grabbed her hand. When Ivy yelped, he laughed, and her face burned in embarrassment. “That’s what I thought. Hold on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He pushed himself up and out of the wooden chairs and made his way over to the registers. He leaned over the counter and was engaged in some easy conversation. He was far enough away that she couldn’t hear him anymore, and all she could see was his back. He shoved a hand through his wavy black hair, and she wondered not for the first time, why such a cute guy was talking to her, or even bothering with her at all. He kind of reminded her of Percy Jackson—the book version, not the live-action version—with his messy, dark hair and stunning green eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He turned around, gesturing over to her general direction, and she quickly averted her gaze, hoping that he didn’t notice how obviously she had been staring. She instead focused on the rain that pelted the large windows next to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> After what felt like forever, he returned with two rags, and handed one to her. Inside were ice cubes. He held the bunched-up rag to his nose, and she took the cue, bunching up the cloth and resting it on her knuckles. The cold was a welcomed sensation, and she felt the pain in her hand subside, somewhat. Who knew punching someone in the face would hurt so bad? The movies made it look so easy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> They sat there in silence a bit, both nursing their respective aches and pains. Ivy’s cheeks heated up in embarrassment. God, it was so awkward. Why was he still there? He should have cursed her out and left by now, but instead they were sitting across each other in awkward silence. This was so much worse than him yelling at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” she said suddenly. He looked at her and she tried not to buckle under his green gaze. “Thank you, for earlier. I, uh, didn’t say much then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He smirked. “I’m surprised you’re back so soon. Couldn’t stay away?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Her face burned under the implication. “I-it was raining! And I had nowhere to go!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He laughed at her and she wanted to die right then and there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Two hot chocolates for Noah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> They both turned toward the handoff plane at the sound of the barista’s call. The boy stood and claimed said beverages, thanked the barista, and made his way back over. He handed one to Ivy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Oh, you didn’t have to!” She pushed the drink back toward him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Don’t worry about it,” he said, “It’s cold, we’re both soaked, might as well have something warm to drink. Hope you like hot chocolate.” He pushed it back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She stared at it dumbly, not knowing what to say. She mumbled another ‘thank you’ and took a tentative sip. Instantly, the warmth flowed down her throat and settled in her chest. She hadn’t realized how cold she really was, though that was expected, considering how wet her clothes still were. The warm drink </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> make her feel better. “How much was it?” she asked, already reaching for her wallet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. “I told you not to worry about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She felt guilty. She was the one who punched him in the face, yet he was the one who bought </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>something. She looked down at her hands. “Thank you,” she said again, for good measure. He just rolled his eyes and took a sip of his own drink. She looked at the name scrawled on the side of the cup. “So, Noah, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He nodded. “Noah Shasta.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Ivy Thompson. Thanks,” she told him, “For the hot chocolate, earlier today, and being nice to me even though I punched you in the face.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He laughed and Ivy felt a bit of relief after hearing it. He reached into his jacket. “Before I forget,” He handed it to me, “You dropped this out there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Ivy’s face burned. It was her pocket watch. She was embarrassed he saw something so nerdy of hers, but nonetheless took it back, shoving it safe in her skirt pocket. She mumbled yet </span>
  <em>
    <span>another </span>
  </em>
  <span>‘thank you’ at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “That’s from…what do you call it…” He tapped his fingers on the table as he tried to recall. He snapped as he remembered. “That show on Toonami, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> A wry smile appeared on her face. “Yeah; Full Metal Alchemist. You heard of it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He shrugged. “Eh, not really. Watched an episode here or there. You a fan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Kind of, yeah,” she replied, trying to forget the obsession she used to have with it as a twelve-year-old. “My friend—the girl I was with this morning—gave this to me as a present a while back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She was finally feeling comfortable again when she nearly had a heart attack. In the window behind Noah was the creep from earlier, staring blankly at them both. He was soaked, the water dripping down his face in earnest, and he kept mouthing words, pointing at them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Upon seeing Ivy’s expression, Noah turned to where she was staring. His face instantly turned into a glower. “Don’t make eye contact,” he instructed, “Just keep looking down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Ivy did as she was told, gripping the cup of hot chocolate tighter in her hands. She took a sip to try and calm herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She froze as the door opened and the bell jingled. It was him. Water dripped off him and pooled at his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Noah quickly stood, shielding her from view. The gesture was appreciated, but futile. He was just a kid, like her. This was some crazy middle-aged man. Who knew what he was capable of?</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Soon,” he kept repeating, over and over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The man continued to walk closer, slowly, like a predator getting close to his meal. The water trail followed him. The commotion within the Starbucks seemed to slow as baristas watched carefully and customers stared with unease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> It wasn’t long until he stood in front of Noah, his eyes wide. He stared blankly, almost as though he couldn’t see the two teens, despite standing right in front of them. Noah, with all the bravado he had earlier today, stood tall, his eyes narrowed. The man spoke in their general direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “It’s coming,” he announced, whirling around to the crowd inside the café, “I’ve heard the truth!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Seamus,” one of the stockier baristas called, “You can’t be in here, man. You gotta go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “SOON!” Seamus yelled, ignoring the employees who tried to usher him out. “The truth is coming!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Sir, if you don’t leave, we’ll have to get security to escort you out,” the barista warned again. He stepped out from behind the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Suddenly, Seamus cowered, crouching down and covering his head. “IT’S HERE!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> What?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ground began to shake violently, and Noah reached his hand to the table to steady himself. ‘For here’ ceramics began to clatter and fall from their respective shelves, and baristas flinched away from the shattering pieces. Customers and employees alike began to chatter in unison, wondering what the hell to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “EARTHQUAKE!” someone yelled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The reaction was immediate. People went flying out of the structure, the few who were too far from the exit diving to the floor and under tables. The shaking of the building only intensified, and now the lights began flickering on and off. Lightning struck the ground outside and thunder boomed ominously close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Ivy and Noah fell to the ground. They huddled under the table they shared, covering their necks and bracing themselves for the worst.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “YOU!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Noah yelled in surprise as Ivy screamed; Seamus had taken hold of Noah’s ankle. Purple lightning sprung from his touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Ivy watched as he attempted to kick the man’s hand off, to no avail. She screamed when the large window above them shattered, spraying shards of glass around them. The cold air blew in violently, and the storm kicked up in earnest, bolts of lightning sparking across the land.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Noah!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She reached for him, grabbing hold of his jacket. Light fixtures fell from the ceiling, sparks flying from them. Chairs and tables blew away and hit walls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Noah looked at her, shouting something she couldn’t hear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> A loud, piercing screech erupted in her ears then, and with her free hand, she covered her ear. She pressed the other side of her face into Noah’s chest, and she could feel the rumble of his own yelling through his chest. He held her tightly and tears streamed down her face. She saw the ceiling crack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Next thing she knew, it collapsed, and everything went dark. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>When she woke up, all she could register was a blinding light. She blinked a few times, rubbing at her eyes. Her head was throbbing, her body was aching, and her hands were clenched so tight, it felt like her hands were frozen in place. She flexed her fingers, opening and closing, wondering how long they had been balled into such tight fists. When she opened her eyes again, dark spots clouded her vision and she cursed, closing them again. She was getting a migraine; what a pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t exactly remember where she was, or what she was doing prior to being asleep. It was as if the answer were just within reach, teasing, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t grab it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> When she opened her eyes again, she expected something like her bedroom, with polka dot sheets and keepsakes thumbtacked to walls. What she did not expect was a land of white.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Startled, she bolted up into a sitting position. Immediately, her head throbbed in painful protest, and she clutched at her eyes to settle the pain. She began remembering everything at once: the earthquake, the building collapsing on her, and Noah.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Noah!</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She looked around for the boy, desperately. She was met with more white.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She couldn’t distinguish what was ground or ceiling, where the blank expanse ended or started. There was nothingness, and then there was her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Did she die?</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Was she dead?</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She looked around with renewed desperation. She was rewarded with the white blankness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” she called into the unknown. To her horror, there was no echo. She pushed herself to stand, grimacing at the various aches and pains in her body. She turned around, searching for something, anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “WHERE AM I?” she shouted to the emptiness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> No answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Her heart began to race and breathing became difficult. She hugged herself, trying to calm the trembling in her limbs, but she felt the tell-tale sign of a panic attack coming on. Faintly, she wondered how she still </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> have panic attacks when she was dead, but that was neither here nor there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She sniffled and cried openly, allowing her tears to run down her cheeks and fall off her chin. If she was dead, surely, she earned the right to cry about it.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <b>
    <em>Well, this is interesting.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span> She jumped, yelping out in surprise despite herself, and whirled around to face the figure. Whatever she had been expecting, the person was not it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> ‘Person’ was a kind word to use, as this figure seemed to be so much more than whatever trivial adjective she could use to describe it. It was difficult to differentiate where the thing started and where the white nothingness ended, yet it seemed ever-changing, ever moving. It morphed from one form to the other, as if it couldn’t decide which one it preferred. It spoke without a mouth, and it unnerved her.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <b>
    <em>You are not supposed to be here.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span> Its voice was something unlike anything she’s ever heard, but everything she’s ever known all at once. Either way, she didn’t know how to respond to that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “I’m…sorry?” she tried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The figure stopped changing silhouettes and settled into a humanoid one. A mouth opened and she shivered as the grin took up half of the being’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She swallowed, hoping her voice would come out strong. “Who are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> It laughed and the sound surrounded her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Slowly, more features appeared on the being. It looked—sounded? —female. It was short and curvy, with soft edges. It took her longer than she’d like to admit realizing it was mimicking her. It sat, seemingly, only a few yards away, and kept grinning. It made her stomach churn to see her smile twisted into something so wicked.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <b>
    <em>Don’t you know?</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span> Its voice mingled with thousands, and she shook her head.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <b>
    <em>You know who I am.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span> Quickly, thoughts kept flying at her, but it couldn’t be. She continued to shake her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “But you’re not real,” she said, finally. The thing sitting across from her only cocked its head. She had to be dreaming.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <b>
    <em>Then tell me, how it is, that you are here?</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    
  </b>
  <span>Its voice became hers. A twisted, unfamiliar version of her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <b>
    <em>You are not dreaming.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span> It stood, walking toward her.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <b>
    <em>I know that you are afraid. I know that you are confused. But all will be revealed in due time.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span> She swallowed as the being stood face to face with her. It was all she could do to not scream when the being reached its hand out and pointed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The huge doorway—The </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gate</span>
  </em>
  <span>—appeared. It opened and she watched as tiny black hands wriggled around her. One by one, they grabbed what they could get their hands on. Locks of hair, fingers, clothes, arms, legs. With each touch of the hands, it seared into her flesh, tightening their grips until chunks of her dissipated into the air. The hands pulled her toward it, and she felt herself sinking into a gelatinous darkness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Truth grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <b>
    <em>You have already paid what is due.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    
  </b>
  <span>And the Gate closed.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. BOOK ONE: SWITCHED</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Edward groaned, stretching his arms to the sky. He felt a satisfying pop, and then began rolling his neck, hoping his body would reward him with more cracks. It didn’t.</p><p>“What’s wrong, Brother?” Alphonse asked. He bent down to pick up the suitcase Ed had promptly dropped after exiting the train.</p><p>“I didn’t realize how long the train ride was going to be,” he replied, frowning. “Why did this place have to be in the goddamn boonies?” The station was just a simple stone platform, surrounded by wilderness.</p><p>“I doubt this alchemist would live somewhere easily accessible,” Al said, “Especially considering the research they do.”</p><p>Ed tried not to be a downer upon catching Al’s cheerful tone. He wasn’t too keen on this guy; all they had to go on were a few criminals and mental-house patients who all seemed either too nutty or too shady to trust. But Al was so damn excited when hearing about him, he had no choice but to investigate it. Lo and behold, there <em>was</em> an alchemist who had done research ranging from chimeras to multiverses to Xingese alkahestry and everything else weird.</p><p>Fortunately, the brothers specialize in weird. Ed just didn’t think this guy was going to be <em>their</em> brand of weird, but once again, it was worth a shot.</p><p>“Yeah, whatever, let’s just go find the bastard,” he grumbled. He took a step forward, and then stopped. He paled upon seeing the large forest that loomed around the train station. “Where the hell is everything?” The only thing indicating anything close to civilization was a singular dirt path, but even that was marred with greenery.</p><p>“Brother!” Al exclaimed. “You didn’t look up directions to where the town was?”</p><p>“Hey, shut up!” he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “I was going to ask someone at the station.”</p><p>Al gave an incredulous look. “Yeah, Ed, let’s ask <em>all</em> the people here at the station.” He gestured dramatically to the empty platform and Ed bit rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Did you do any research about this place? The tagline is literally ‘the town hidden in trees,’ Brother.”</p><p>“I get it, Al,” he snapped, focusing his sights on the foliage in front of them. “Okay, fine. Let’s just keep going. The town’s gotta be somewhere in that forest.” He began marching forward.</p><p>Al sighed, picking up their things from the ground before following.</p><p>The brochures didn’t lie; this place <em>was</em> hidden.</p><p>Every time it would seem the brothers found a path, or a road, it would either lead to nowhere, or the path would disappear entirely. Ed wondered how any locals found their way to the train station at all.</p><p>They wandered down a path that seemed to lead somewhere, but then they were met with a giant rock wall.</p><p>“Dammit,” he mumbled under his breath.</p><p>“We’re not lost, are we?” Alphonse asked hesitantly.</p><p>Ed was silent.</p><p>“Are we?” Al asked again. When the blonde didn’t reply, he sighed. “Brother—”</p><p>A sudden yelp caught their attention.</p><p>Edward instantly began running in that direction. Whether it was to avoid admitting that yes, he got them lost, or if he were concerned at the voice, Alphonse wouldn’t be able to know. They pushed past branches and shrubbery, the babbling of a river coaxing them in the right direction. After nearly tripping over an overgrown tree root, their feet stepped into sand and water-worn smooth pebbles.</p><p>“Aw, hell….” A girl murmured, “Shoot, shoot, shoot…”</p><p>She was standing—or, rather, sitting—in the riverbed. Well, a river was too generous a word to use. It seemed more like a large creek than anything, but the rushing water was quick enough to allow him to ascertain that this creek led to something larger. Her clothes were soaked through, and her long dark hair fell in front of her face, the wet locks clinging to her cheeks. She had things gathered in her arms, and her other hand was splashing in the water, most likely trying to catch something.</p><p>Alphonse was the first to react. “Are you alright?” he called.</p><p>At the sound, the girl snapped her head up. As soon as she laid eyes on him, she let out a scream, falling back onto her bottom, whatever was in her arms splashing back into the river.</p><p>Edward sighed and Alphonse put his hands up in the universal ‘I’m-not-a-threat’ gesture. “Sorry!”</p><p>It used to make Ed downright furious whenever people would be afraid of Al, or think he was weird, but after a few years, it was hard to deny how strange seeing a suit of armor was. Besides, after about two seconds of knowing him, they all figured out he was just kindness in a can.</p><p>The girl regarded both of them hesitantly.</p><p>“Here, let us help,” Al said easily. He walked slowly to the river, stepping into it, and began gathering the items the girl dropped. Most were books and linens; the linens would recover, but the pages…</p><p>She gave a glance at Ed, then back to Al. She also attempted to retrieve the fallen things. She hugged them to her chest as she grasped them.</p><p>“I’m Alphonse Elric, and that’s my brother, Edward,” he said cheerfully. Ed waved, safe on the bank. He’d rather avoid getting his automail wet. Besides, being friendly was his brother’s thing.</p><p>“I’m Ami Kathleen Evans,” she said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”</p><p>“What were you doing before you ended up in here?” Al asked.</p><p>“I was tryin’ to get to town quicker by going across the river,” she motioned to the wooden structure that lay in ruin, “but the bridge finally gave in on me.” Ami sighed. “And now the books are all ruined. Cali’s gonna kill me….”</p><p>Al hummed as he stood, offering a hand to the girl. She smiled, taking it, and he helped haul her up.</p><p>Edward examined the broken bridge. The wood was all rotted through and splintered to all hell. “Well, let’s see if we can do something about it.” He clapped his hands.</p><p>The riverbed was flashing light blue sparks and the wood was engulfed into the stone. The two materials wobbled as they warped, and soon the lights died down, and in its stead was a black cobblestone bridge, complete with gothic arches and skulls emerging from the handrails. Ed smirked. It looked cool as hell.</p><p>“Wow,” Ami breathed, her brows pinched together. “It looks, um…fixed.”</p><p>Edward snorted. Some people just don’t understand style.</p><p>“So, y’all are alchemists then?”</p><p>Alphonse nodded and led the two of them back to dryland, where he promptly placed the books down. “Here, let me try something.”</p><p>Al motioned for her to put the books and linens down, and she did, though hesitantly. In the sand, he quickly drew a simple transmutation circle and placed all the water-ruined items into it. After clapping his hands, he touched the outer ring, the circle blooming into similar blue light. The rushing electricity of his transmutation died down quickly, and in the middle were the books and linens dried; they looked brand new.</p><p>“Wow!” Ami exclaimed, bending down and touching one of the covers. “They’re perfect! How did you fix them?!”</p><p>“I sped up the water molecules, so they evaporated.”</p><p>“Huh,” she said, leaning back on her haunches.</p><p>Ed paused, staring at the name on the cover. “Perenelle Flamel…?” His eyes went wide as he quickly scooped the leather-bound notebook, quickly flipping through it.</p><p>“Hey!” Ami quickly stood, snatching the book away from his hands.</p><p>“Where did you get these?” he demanded, taking a few steps forward. She took a few steps back.</p><p>“W-why?”</p><p>“Brother,” Al admonished, “You’re scaring her.”</p><p>Ed, realizing how defensively the girl stood, eased back a few steps, crossing his arms over his chest. With the distance, she seemed a bit more comfortable.</p><p>“Sorry, Ami,” Al started, “It’s just surprising; we actually came here to find some of those books you have.”</p><p>“Would you be willing to lend us them?”</p><p>Al shot Ed a look and Ed shot him a glare back. Al gave him another look that said ‘you’re-being-rude’, and Ed gave him a look that said ‘stop-lecturing-me-I’m-the-older-brother-dammit.’ Hell, if they could just have these books, then they could just head back to station; screw Ashwell.</p><p>Ami bit her lip. “Well, they’re not mine to give, so I’m sorry,” she said, but upon seeing them deflate, she quickly added, “But I can introduce you to the person who does own these.”</p><p>Both the brothers couldn’t believe their luck.</p><p>“Please!”</p><hr/><p>When Ivy awoke, all she knew was that whatever she was laying on was uncomfortable.</p><p>She propped herself on her elbows, becoming painfully aware of the splitting headache that settled in her brain. She was face down on hardwood floors, and she willed herself to sit up. When she came to, she blinked into the bright light.</p><p>“Hey, she’s up!”</p><p>She looked up at the voice to see an older woman, her long black hair pulled up into a bun. Her startling clear blue eyes seemed strangely familiar, but Ivy was too distracted to pay any mind to it.</p><p>There were strange faces gathered all around her. The dead silence as they stared at her was awkward and she could hear hushed whispers and murmurs amongst the small crowd. She suddenly felt ridiculously small and exceptionally large all at once.</p><p>The woman sighed loudly, whirling around to glare at the onlookers. “Y’all can mind your business now! Go on!” The crowd lingered a second too long for her liking, and she leaned intimidatingly forward. “<em>GET!” </em>she yelled, her voice booming around the room.</p><p>The crowd dispersed immediately, sitting back down at their respective tables. They continued their chatter, giving final confused looks in their direction before resuming their meals.</p><p>Satisfied, the woman turned back to Ivy, reaching her hand out. Hesitantly, Ivy took it.</p><p>The woman helped her up from the ground only to push her back down in a chair. She placed her hand on her forehead, and Ivy flinched at the sudden familiar touch. “Ya don’t seem to have a fever…” she mumbled to herself. She had a delightful southern twang to her voice, and Ivy would’ve thought it was charming if she weren’t freaking out.</p><p><em>I wasn’t supposed to be here,</em> she thought, looking around at her surroundings.</p><p> It appeared to be a diner; the walls were decorated with pictures of people she didn’t recognize and places she didn’t know. The few customers sat in their seats, enjoying meals and coffee. There was a long counter where a few sat, and a kitchen rumbling to life behind it. She saw the chef flipping pancakes and scrambling eggs, pieces of notebook paper pinned on a clothesline above the window to the kitchen. It was all so different and new and confusing.</p><p>She looked at strangers’ faces, trying desperately to recognize anyone or anything.</p><p>“Ya need some water, sweetheart?” the woman asked. “It’s hot out and I don’t want ya faintin’ on me again.”</p><p>“Where am I?”</p><p>The woman frowned. “Cornerstone Café,” she replied, slowly. It was then she noticed her nametag pinned to her button up shirt. <em>Cali </em>was written in an elegant scrawl.</p><p>“And where-where is that?” she asked quietly.</p><p>Ivy swallowed, eyes darting around, in case she really <em>did</em> know this place and she was just missing something. Because she <em>should</em> know this place! Because if she didn’t, then that would be super weird, and not make any sense, and mean she got transported or kidnapped or <em>drugged</em> or—</p><p>Cali’s frown deepened. “Ashwell.”</p><p>Ashwell.</p><p>
  <em>You gotta be messing with me. </em>
</p><p>“Ashwell, as in, town hidden in <em>trees</em>, Ashwell?” Ivy’s mind whirled. She stood up slowly, her heart racing.</p><p>“That’s right,” she answered cautiously, looking the girl up and down. “Are ya sure you’re alright?”</p><p>“No, I’m not,” Ivy whispered.</p><p>Then she took off running. She blazed past waiters and customers and burst out of the swinging saloon door only to roughly slam into someone. The boy yelled and she just stuttered out a ‘sorry’ before pushing past him and making a break for it down the dirt road. She thought she could hear Cali shouting after her, but she ignored her, and kept running.</p><p>This couldn’t be right. No way—no <em>freaking</em> way was she where she thought she was.</p><p>As she ran, she observed the town around her. True to Ashwell’s claims, trees surrounded the small little town, and she could see paths disappearing into the foliage, leading in and out of the main street she was on. People around her walked and talked as if the world were not different and new and strange.</p><p>She saw a newspaper stand outside a convenience store and skidded to a halt. The dirt path gritted under her shoes as she approached the stand. She grabbed the paper and tore through it, looking for some inkling of where she was, hoping it wasn’t what she thought. Her eyes found the headline.</p><ol>
<li><em> June. 1915: Fuehrer Bradley and his family tour Amestris!</em></li>
</ol><p>No.</p><p>No, no, no!</p><p>She took off running again.</p><p><em>Amestris</em>. She was in Amestris, and in Ashwell, no less. It just wasn’t possible. Memories flashed in her mind painfully, and she clutched at her head to get it to stop. Her ears rung and her head throbbed in memories she couldn’t recall. She saw something; she <em>knew</em> something. What was it?</p><p>Truth. She had seen Truth.</p><p>She tried to grasp at the memories of her encounter with Truth to no avail. Either her mind was blocking out the trauma, or something else entirely was preventing her from remembering. She felt chills go up and down her spine as the only thing she could distinctly remember was its grin, wide and unnerving.</p><p>She fell to her knees, too weak to support herself. Her heart raced a mile a minute, and she couldn’t breathe. It felt like her chest was caving in on itself, like the clothes she was wearing were too tight and choking her. She willed herself to calm down. She forced herself to breathe.</p><p>
  <em>In, for five seconds. Out, for seven. </em>
</p><p>She repeated that mantra for a few minutes, until she was able to breathe normally again. She looked around and found herself somewhere in the middle of the forest, no other people in sight. She sighed, realizing she got herself well and utterly lost, and stood again.</p><p>As she stood, something fell and bounced off her shoe. She looked down to see what it was and felt tears prick at her eyes.</p><p>It was her Full Metal Alchemist pocket watch. Oh, the irony.</p><p>She bent down to pick it up and hugged it to her chest. Seeing the dumb piece of merchandise made her want to cry. It proved she was sane, and that this happened to her, and she wasn’t dreaming. She chuckled darkly to herself. A dumb piece of merch was her foothold in this situation. How lame.</p><p>Her momentary calm came screeching to a halt. <em>Wait. If I’m here, does that mean…?</em></p><p>“NOAH?!”</p><hr/><p>Ami led them to downtown, something Ed was extremely grateful for. It turned out they were closer than they thought; right past the river was the start of civilization. Few dirt paths weaved in and out of the forest, supposedly leading to other parts of the ‘city’ as Ami called it. The townsfolk are thankful for the forest that surrounds them, as their lumber are what keep the city, and Amestris, afloat. So they attempt to build around the trees, replanting as soon as one is axed down, and so on.</p><p>Once they entered town, it was like a whole new world, compared to the woodsy nightmare before. Shops lined up and down the streets, street vendors were hawking off their inventory, and many came to greet Ami cheerfully. To the towns’ credit, very few gave the Elrics odd looks. Ed supposed it was due to Ami’s company.</p><p>Soon they approached a diner, the deck wrapping around it littered with tables and chairs, with people enjoying coffee and chattering amongst themselves.</p><p>“So this is Cornerstone Café, or as everyone calls it, Cali’s Cafe,” Ami said, turning back around to regard them both. “The titular ‘Cali’ is my boss, and owner of these books.” She hopped up the few steps, steeping aside to motion them toward the saloon swinging doors. “She’s usually still working around this time, so—”</p><p>Suddenly the doors flew open, and someone burst through at great speed. Ami let out a yelp and Alphonse quickly jumped out of the way. Edward was less fortunate. The person barreled into him, almost managing to knock him over completely.</p><p>“HEY! What the—?”</p><p>“Sorry,” the person—a girl?—rushed out before pushing past and sprinting down the road.</p><p>Another person burst through the saloon doors, but she stopped before leaving the deck.</p><p>“WAIT!” the woman shouted, her light blue eyes shrouded in worry.</p><p>“Cali?”</p><p>The woman blinked out of her reverie, turning to regard the young girl. “Oh, Ami,” she said quietly. Upon seeing her worried look, she shook her head, giving a wry smile. “Don’t worry your lil’ head. Thank ya for bringing these to me.” The woman reached over and grabbed the items, and Ed noticed the tiny scars that decorated her porcelain arms.</p><p>“Oh, um, Cali, wait,” Ami said, quickly glancing at the brothers.</p><p>Wordlessly, the woman—or Cali—looked to where Ami was, and blinked upon seeing Alphonse, craning her neck to look up at the suit of armor’s face. Al laughed sheepishly.</p><p>She was momentarily stunned, before quickly blinking out of it, and greeted the two carefully. “Hiya.”</p><p>“Please, ma’am,” Edward started, “I’ll cut to the chase: the reason we came was for those notebooks.”</p><p>Her eyes narrowed then, but Ed didn’t waver his gaze.</p><p>“Brother!” Al hissed, elbowing him in the side.</p><p>“Y’all are alchemists, ain’t ya?” she asked, her previous cheer gone. Ed flinched and Al stiffened. The tone of her voice sounded eerily similar to their teacher.</p><p>“We’ll even pay a large sum for them,” Ed continued.</p><p>Her frown deepened.</p><p>“Please Miss,” Alphonse pleaded, shooting another warning look at him, “Forgive my brother. My name is Alphonse Elric, and that’s Edward. We have been searching for those particular texts, and it will mean a great deal if you’d allow us to read them.”</p><p>“Alphonse and Edward Elric?” she said, mostly to herself. Her blue eyes widened, and Ed clenched his jaw; <em>shit</em>, she recognized them.</p><p>Ami gasped. “You’re the Full Metal Alchemist?!”</p><p>Alphonse put his hands up, shaking his head. “Oh! No, not me!”</p><p>Edward growled, glaring daggers at the girl.</p><p>When Ami’s brows scrunched together and looked at the blonde with a familiar incredulous look, Ed wanted to strangle her.</p><p>Before Ami could say the words she was about to, Cali put her hand up. “I’ve heard enough,” she said firmly, then trained her intense stare at him. Ed flinched as her icy blue eyes bore into him. “I don’t <em>care</em> which of ya is the Full Metal Alchemist, but if y’all want any chance to read <em>my</em> books, you better go get that girl.”</p><p>Ed raised a brow. “What?”</p><p>She raised her scarred arm and pointed in the direction the previous girl ran to. “If you boys are as capable as the rumors say ya are, then that shouldn’t be much of a problem.”</p><p>Ed was about to protest when she leaned forward, her face inches from his. “NOW GO ON AND GET!”</p><p>The brothers faltered, tripping over themselves, before hurrying in the direction they were pointed.</p><hr/><p>Ivy paced the road, opening and closing the pocket watch in her hand. People were staring at her, but she could care less at this point.</p><p>She had managed to wander back to the main road, thankfully, but she decided to stay as far from Cali’s Café as possible. Nothing against the woman, but she was too friendly for Ivy to handle now. She tried looking for Noah, going as far as asking some locals if they had seen someone matching his description, but to no avail. The only solution was that Noah wasn’t here. He must have been plopped somewhere else, and Ivy had to find him.</p><p>
  <em>Or maybe…</em>
</p><p>She had a pit in her stomach thinking that maybe he was dead, but she quickly disregarded it. She had no time for such negative thoughts. Besides, she had this feeling he wasn’t. She knew gut feelings meant little to nothing, but she couldn’t explain it; she just <em>knew</em>.</p><p><em>Okay, think,</em> she thought, gnawing on her bottom lip. <em>We were at Starbucks. Then that homeless guy came in, shouting about ‘soon’ or whatever…but what did he say exactly?</em></p><p>
  <em>‘Soon, I’ve heard the truth.’</em>
</p><p>Truth.</p><p>“That JERK!” she yelled out loud. A few people stopped to stare. She felt her face burn and she looked down at her feet, quickly walking away.</p><p>That homeless guy knew something they didn’t, or he was being manipulated by Truth somehow. And when he grabbed them, that had to be alchemy. </p><p>She groaned. But that didn’t make any sense! Alchemy doesn’t exist!</p><p>
  <em>Or I thought it didn’t….</em>
</p><p>She sniffled, tears forming in her eyes again. None of this made any sense. Alchemy wasn’t real, Truth wasn’t real, FMA wasn’t real—none of this was real! Or at least it shouldn’t be. <em>Couldn’t</em> be. Hell, who’s to say she wasn’t dreaming?</p><p>FMA being real? She met Truth? She got zapped to a town she wrote about that was just part of a really bad fanfiction she wrote when she was eleven?</p><p>Like, c’mon! Her dream just plopped her into the most overdone fanfiction plots of all time! It was so unbelievable, that some of it <em>was</em> believable, which was freaking her out.</p><p>BAM!</p><p>She grunted when her butt hit the ground. She rubbed her cheek as it stung from impact. She had been walking with her head down for so long, she’s surprised it took her so long to bump into someone. She looked up at the person who was apparently made of brick, they were so solid.</p><p>“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to—”</p><p>“<em>You’re</em> a state alchemist?” a deep voice asked in disbelief, cutting her off.</p><p>“Wha—?”</p><p>She froze.</p><p>His skin was a deep, olive brown, and his hair was stark white. His eyes were obscured by sunglasses, but she didn’t need to see; she’d bet her life on it that they were red. She looked at where he was staring to see her replica pocket watch, still in her hand.</p><p>No.</p><p>She looked around, searching desperately for something, <em>someone</em> to help. In her daze, she had wandered into the forest again, far away from civilization. God, why the hell didn’t she pay attention to where she was walking?!</p><p>He raised his right arm, pulling up the sleeve to reveal tattoos she had only previously seen on a screen.</p><p>“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. The God-forsaken military has recruited children before.”</p><p>He cracked his knuckles.</p><p>
  <em>She was going to die.</em>
</p><p> </p>
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